<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The season of giving by itsalwayssunnyit</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28386378">The season of giving</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsalwayssunnyit/pseuds/itsalwayssunnyit'>itsalwayssunnyit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vampyr (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkwardness, Christmas, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, First Time, Gift Giving, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:23:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,379</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28386378</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsalwayssunnyit/pseuds/itsalwayssunnyit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They're not really friends, so it's very odd that Jonathan is the first thing Geoffrey thinks of when he comes across a particular item in a flea market. It makes for a good present and Geoffrey ends up getting a lot more than he could ever expect in return.</p><p>Holiday (smutty) fluff</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The season of giving</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>not a native speaker, all mistakes are mine, let me know if I messed up anywhere, yeah?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They weren't friends. Not really. Awkward collaborators, acquaintances at <em>best</em>. They wouldn't cross the street to say hello to one another, but they wouldn’t go out of their way to avoid each other either. In this scenario, they'd probably wave awkwardly and be on their way.</p><p>The thing is, they didn't <em>hate</em> each other or anything like that. Even though Geoffrey spent his whole life hating things like him.</p><p>It's weird, then, that he's the first thing Geoffrey thinks of when he sees it.</p><p>A fountain pen. At a flea market.</p><p>It’s just… Christmas is coming and, well, that looks like something Dr. Reid would like, right? Doctors use pens all the time. It's an impulsive thing, at first. But then bartering for the pen and spending <em>days</em> polishing it back into shiny and smooth perfection, testing it to make sure it still works, well, that's much more deliberate.</p><p>By the time Geoffrey has the present ready, he's feeling like an absolute fool.</p><p>He comes over to Pembroke late on Christmas day, after the sun has set, because of course Reid is working, the man hasn’t stopped working ever since he came back from Scotland and Geoffrey is pretty sure he hasn’t taken a night off in forever. The hospital is decorated for the holidays — sparingly, but it looks Christmas-y. The staff doesn’t seem to be overly busy this evening, so it’s easy to locate Reid, standing tall in the middle of a hallway near the infirmary, talking to one of the nurses.</p><p>If anyone asks — not that anyone ever would — Geoffrey would argue that he hasn’t given anyone a gift in over a decade and following social protocol is not a pre-requisite in his line of work. That’s why he gives Reid the gift right then and there, the other doctors and patients and nurses curiously watching the whole exchange.</p><p>“For me?” Reid asks. He looks surprised and pleased and it’s just a pen and a used one at that, and he hasn’t even opened it yet but acts as if it’s the most brilliant thing he’s ever seen.</p><p>Geoffrey’s whole face is <em>burning</em>. “It's nothing.”</p><p>Reid’s eloquence seems to vanish when he gets the box open. “Oh, it's-”</p><p>“It's <em>nothing</em>.” Geoffrey is getting flustered. People are <em>staring</em>.</p><p><em>Reid </em>is staring, blinking at the stupid pen like it’s a bloody diamond or something and then up at Geoffrey.</p><p>“Thank you,” he says in that earnest, stupidly intense way he speaks. It shouldn’t be this disarming, but it <em>gets</em> to Geoffrey. “Do you-”</p><p>“I should probably-” <em>get going</em>, Geoffrey starts to say and then realises that Jonathan had been saying something and he’d interrupted him — like the socially inept tool he is. He clears his throat. “Sorry, you go first.”</p><p>The smile Jonathan gives him is very gentle.</p><p>“I was going to ask, would you like some tea? If you have the time, naturally.”</p><p>Geoffrey was just about to excuse himself, but he does have the time. More than that, he doesn’t really want to go yet. It’s Christmas and he’s allowed to have one nice thing, right? So he says, “Tea would be nice,” and follows Jonathan fucking <em>Reid</em> upstairs, trying to ignore the whispers around them, the prickling sensation on the back of his neck, the feeling of being watched.</p><p>Jonathan doesn’t drink tea. He can’t. Still, he serves Geoffrey a perfectly steeped earl grey and smiles fondly at Geoffrey’s appreciative hum. The hunter hasn’t had tea this nice in ages. While Geoffrey is occupied with his tea, Jonathan takes the pen out again and examines it closely.</p><p>“Sorry if this is weird,” Geoffrey offers and then immediately cringes.</p><p>“It's not. Don't worry. It's just... My father used to have a pen just like this one.” The way Jonathan says it, it’s like he’s sharing a secret. His eyes grow distant, like he’s somewhere else entirely. “I think I broke it? Or maybe it was Mary. My sister. We used to 'borrow' it for our ‘art’ projects. I thought he’d be furious, but he didn’t mind. I never touched his things again.”</p><p>Geoffrey sets his teacup down on the saucer, puts them both on the workbench nearby. Pointedly avoids Jonathan’s eyes when he asks, “How is your mum doing?”</p><p>“Oh, she's...” For a second, Geoffrey thinks he’ll get the usual response. She’s fine. Jonathan seems to change his mind half-way through his sentence, though, and settles on an oddly vulnerable, “Good days and bad days, you know.”</p><p>Christmas is a strange time all around, it seems. “Good thing she has you,” Geoffrey offers. He doesn’t think much of it, but Jonathan looks caught so utterly off-guard, he just stares at Geoffrey blankly for a few seconds.</p><p>“You're… too kind,” he says, but the words sound wrong, like that’s not what he meant to say, not at all what he’d been thinking. Geoffrey waits for him to find the right words and when they come, it’s like nothing he’d expect to hear. “I tried to kill myself, you know. The night I was turned. When I realised what I had done. I shot myself.”</p><p>He touches his own chest.</p><p>“Must have hurt,” Geoffrey offers when he can’t think of anything else to say. He still feels like a tool, though, and Reid is blinking rapidly and his eyes look a bit redder than before, so Geoffrey reaches for him, pats his shoulder the way he does when the rookies in the guard start to get homesick or scared and leaves his hand there for a moment more. “For what is worth, I'm glad you didn't succeed. I'm sure so is your mum. And many, <em>many</em> others.”</p><p>It’s like watching a small crack take down an entire glacier. The fountain pen clatters to the ground with a small sound and Geoffrey has no idea where it ends up because Jonathan’s lower lip trembles for a second and Geoffrey’s arms are already open for him when he turns towards him. It takes some manoeuvring, holding Reid the way they’re standing, but it’s also perfect, so perfect Geoffrey doesn’t want to risk ruining it by making it uncomfortably long, so he slowly loosens the embrace he’s got around the Ekon after a few seconds.</p><p>Jonathan, though, doesn’t pay him the same courtesy. He doesn’t let Geoffrey go. And Geoffrey is not complaining. It’s awkward for just one moment and then it’s… something else.</p><p><em>This is how it is, then</em>, Geoffrey thinks right before he decides to kiss Jonathan. It has to be him, you see. Jonathan will never take that step and Geoffrey is not a fan of ‘what if’s’, especially if you’re standing this close to having <em>exactly</em> what you want but never realised you were even allowed to want in the first place.</p><p>The first touch between their lips is not much of anything, a dry press of skin against skin, almost chaste in a way. Geoffrey’s heart is just about to beat out of his chest, though, and Jonathan makes this noise, small and hurt, and kisses back — a bit clumsily, teeth clashing into Geoffrey’s. It takes them a few tries to get it just right, but then they do. They really, really do.</p><p>It’s perfect, just kissing and holding each other. Geoffrey wouldn’t trade it for the word. Eventually, though, he needs to breathe. They’re both smiling a bit too much for it to really work anyway — <em>kissing</em>.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>He’s just kissed Jonathan Reid.</p><p>There’s a lot of things to process there — Reid is a leech, for one, a <em>male</em> leech, a tentative ally. None of those things really bring up the wave of panic Geoffrey thought they would, however, so he finds himself distractedly caressing Jonathan’s face, stroking his beard, and asking, “Do you have to go back to work soon?” because they should go back to the snogging, in his opinion. Sooner rather than later.</p><p>Jonathan shakes his head. “It can wait a bit,” he says and, Jesus, smiling like that, he is just about the most breath-taking sight Geoffrey’s ever laid eyes upon.</p><p>Geoffrey kisses him again, deep and hard, sliding hands over the doctor’s back and waist and holding him close and Jonathan lets him. Encourages him, even, humming quietly as Geoffrey nips at his lower lip and running both hands through Geoffrey’s hair. Geoffrey gets rid of his scarf, drops his coat on the nearest surface and pushes Jonathan’s off his shoulders. Jonathan’s fingers immediately start fiddling with the buttons on Geoffrey’s shirt and Geoffrey appreciates the direction they’re headed, really, he does, but it’s difficult to get there with how they keep getting in each other’s way, lost in the push and grind of their hips, hard and inelegant.</p><p>“Is your door locked?” Geoffrey manages to ask.</p><p>“God, I hope so,” Jonathan replies because they’re closer to the bed than they are to the door now. And people would probably knock if they needed him, right. No one really barges in unannounced. It would be just the worst time for them to start doing that. Jonathan pushes Geoffrey towards the bed and watches as the hunter falls back into it, chest bare and trousers half undone. He smirks as he crawls between the hunter’s thighs, pulling his trousers and underwear down his legs, and tells him, “I didn't really get you anything for Christmas. Hopefully this will make up for it.”</p><p>Geoffrey is just about to ask him what the hell he is talking about and he wasn’t <em>supposed</em> to get him anything for Christmas, it’s not like Geoffrey <em>planned</em> for any of this, you know, but then Jonathan is taking Geoffrey’s cock in a firm grasp, stroking him from base to tip with a pleased glint in his eyes, lips hovering closer and closer, and Geoffrey promptly forgets what day it even is. He has a fleeting panicky thought about fangs on his prick but it comes after Jonathan’s pressed his tongue right under the tip of his cock and the thought just slides away.</p><p>Geoffrey stares at the ceiling for an instant as his prick is enveloped by wet, smooth silk and thinks that, well, maybe he should have gotten Jonathan something better than a pen, because this isn’t even remotely equivalent.</p><p>Jonathan sounds like he’s really enjoying himself, humming around Geoffrey’s length and gasping when he pulls back even though he doesn’t need air, does he. Geoffrey ventures a glance down. Their eyes meet and he can’t tear his gaze away.</p><p>“Shit,” he gasps. He might never be able to get over the sight of his cock disappearing into Jonathan’s eager mouth. It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to come undone after that. He barely manages to hiss a warning, but Jonathan doesn’t pull away. It anything, he grows more enthusiastic, moaning in approval when Geoffrey grows impossibly harder under his touch and then pulses and spurts warm and bitter across his tongue. Jonathan doesn’t swallow, not really. But he works Geoffrey through it, stretches every aftershock into a crashing wave, and the whole mess of Geoffrey’s come slides out between his lips onto Geoffrey’s stomach and down Jonathan’s own beard, milky white against black hair.</p><p>And Geoffrey can’t. With a view like that, he just can’t. Half out of his mind with pleasure still zinging through his body, he pulls Jonathan to him, kisses his own taste right off the Ekon’s lips and pushes him down onto the pillows. If there’s one thing Geoffrey believes in, that’s reciprocity. So he gets Jonathan comfortable on the bed and then makes himself comfortable between the Ekon’s spread legs. He takes his time, too. Kisses his pale, flat stomach, his lean and strong thighs. He doesn’t have much of an idea of what to do here, he’s going on instinct more than anything else, but he knows what he likes himself and from the noises Jonathan is making, they have similar tastes.</p><p>“My god, hunter, this… This will be rather quick, I’m afraid,” Jonathan says and he’s far too articulate for Geoffrey’s liking, so Geoffrey hollows his cheeks, sucks harder, and the deep, startled moan that Jonathan lets out is the most delicious sound Geoffrey’s ever heard in his life. “Your mouth is so… hot,” Jonathan says and that’s more the level of articulation Geoffrey is able to appreciate. Jonathan’s flesh is not exactly cold, but it’s colder, warming up under his lips, and Geoffrey can only imagine what it feels like for the Ekon.</p><p>He pulls back to breathe and tells Jonathan, “Don’t hold back.”</p><p>“God, you’re-” Jonathan is not able to finish his thought because Geoffrey takes his cock into his mouth again, his efforts redoubled. Jonathan’s hands are on top of Geoffrey’s head, not really pushing him down, just holding on as his hips shift and roll into the slide of Geoffrey’s lips and tongue. Geoffrey can feel it when he’s getting closer, doesn’t really need his pained, “It’s too much, I can’t-”</p><p>Jonathan pushes Geoffrey off of him just as he’s starting to come and Geoffrey is thankful for it at first because even though he loved the feeling of Jonathan’s cock in his mouth, he’s not sure he wants to find out what his come tastes like just yet. A part of him does, yeah, but then Geoffrey is also thankful that he gets to watch as Jonathan comes undone. The Ekon strokes himself through his orgasm, bucking into his own fist and coming wet and messy across his own stomach and Geoffrey gets to see his lips parted in a snarl, animal need breaking through the calm and proper façade of the doctor.</p><p>He’s <em>gorgeous</em>.</p><p>He’s still twitching weakly when Geoffrey slides his fingers through the cooling mess on his stomach and leans over to kiss him good and breathless. He presses their foreheads together then and whispers, “Merry Christmas, Dr. Reid,” just to hear him laugh.</p><p>“Merry Christmas, vampire hunter,” Jonathan replies, pulling Geoffrey down to lie beside him in the narrow bed. Geoffrey goes easily and, for once, he lets himself relax, lets his guard down, not thinking of what the next step will be. And they’re still not friends. Not really. They’re something else entirely, you see.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>happy holidays, guys &lt;3 here's hoping for a better 2021<br/>all feedback is greatly appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>